


First Burn

by musicaltrash_24601



Series: First Burn [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Character Analysis, Fantine's dead lmao, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Javert (Crowe) - Freeform, Javert feels betrayed, Javert is Eliza, Jean is Alexander, Kinda?, M/M, Madeleine Era, No Happy End but sort of at the same time?, One Shot, Please be gentle in your criticism, Songfic, They were lovers, This is my first angst, Valjean (Jackman), gay angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 11:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicaltrash_24601/pseuds/musicaltrash_24601
Summary: Jean Valjean, or Monsieur Madeleine, brought Fantine into his house for care, and his beloved inspector is appalled and shocked.





	First Burn

**Author's Note:**

> A BIG OL UPDATE  
> So the lyrics are gonna be removed due to copyright issues, but hopefully y'all can still understand the fic.
> 
> This is a little late for Barricade Day, but I had to give y'all something while I'm working on the next chapter of The Song of the Siren. Happy belated Barricade Day, you beautiful people. 
> 
> Okay, so this has to be explained because I was listening to First Burn and honestly, I couldn't help but see Javert singing this to Valjean. And, so this was born. A few of the lyrics have to be changed, and I'll explain those too at the end. If you're confused at all about the lyrics and setting, just check the endnotes for clarification. I'll also be posting my notes and a verse-by-verse analysis of this so keep an eye out for that!

Inspector Javert burst into the tiny room where he knew Madeleine- no. _Valjean_ \- was keeping the ailing Fantine. The prostitute had been taken into the mayor’s care when she had fallen ill after being out in the cold for so long. She should have been charged with assault for attacking the man and leaving a few nasty-looking scratches on his face. Javert spotted Valjean and narrowed his eyes. Clearly, the man was grieving the death of the whore, which Javert did not understand.

 

Javert calmly walked over to the dresser where he kept his things when he stayed with Valjean in his house. Slowly- deliberately- he drew out the letters, poems, and drawings that Valjean had made him. He could feel the man’s eyes watching his eyes. With the same deliberate motions, Javert grabbed a lantern that was lit and a small tub. Holding the papers to the flame, he dropped them in the basin once they had caught fire. His angry gaze concealed the world of hurt he was in. His tears caught the bright glare of the fire as the papers burned.

 

Javert should have known. His mind and heart had been at war from the first moment he had seen Madeleine. His heart was breaking as he burned the letters, poems, and beautiful drawings. But this was just. Javert had been too deeply hurt by the man’s deceit. He’d been too deeply hurt by Valjean bringing a commonplace whore into the place they had shared intimate moments. Moments that Javert thought had something special in them. He thought he had meant something to Madeleine. To Valjean. Clearly, his mind told him, you were wrong.  

 

Valjean stood, but Javert held up a hand. No words were needed, as it was enough to stop the former mayor in his tracks. Javert knew that Valjean possessed a silver tongue. He had so often talked his way out of situations that Javert would have never let anyone else get out of and now Javert was deeply regretting letting the ex-convict off the hook.  The inspector’s silent tears apparently were enough to still the man in his tracks and as Javert’s tears slid down his face, he bitterly recalled the times he had shared with Valjean.

 

Javert had thought that he knew who Madeleine truly was. Sure, he had his suspicions because Jean Madeleine looked suspiciously like Jean Valjean but they were unfounded and the Prefet had dismissed them. And thus, Javert did as well. He should have known better than to dismiss his instincts- that were correct! his mind howled- to pursue something with this man who stood to the side as he watched Javert.

 

Javert re-read the letters before he set them aflame. The tear in his heart grew larger and he grew more bitter as tears flowed down his face. He wanted to scream, to yell, to make Valjean _hurt_. But this was far more effective, he knew. These letters, these poems, these drawings… They were personal. Valjean had poured his heart and soul into these. Javert’s burning them was far more effective than any words he may have thrown in Valjean’s direction. Still, the inspector couldn’t bring himself to look at Valjean’s face.

 

Javert glanced at the dead prostitute. She had written Valjean letters, Javert knew. Valjean had published those. He had gone out of his way to declare that he was not, in fact, the beloved Monsieur le Maire who had done the small seaside town of Montreuil-sur-Mer. Instead, he was the famed convict Jean Valjean of Faverolles who had broken his parole eight years ago. Valjean had cleared his consciousness, yes, but had ruined Javert’s trust and faith in him.

 

The former mayor stepped forward again, but a withering glare from Javert cowed him. He couldn’t believe how willingly the man had announced who he really was. It was shocking to think that Valjean had so little regard for the feelings of those around him. Javert took one drawing of himself smiling, basking in the light that had so often followed Madeleine and set it ablaze. Perhaps the most shocking thing to Javert was how willing Valjean was to go after the whore’s daughter. He was going to leave Javert, leave him for some brat he didn’t even know. More tears slid down Javert’s cheeks and he grit his teeth. He threw the burning drawing into the basin and choked back sobs. He would _not_ give Valjean the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting.

 

He should have known, really. It was foolish to think that Javert could keep Valjean to himself. The man’s dashing looks, charming smile, and strapping frame were enough to attract any woman who saw him. Javert, in his visits to the mayor’s office to give reports, had been disgusted with the ladies who fawned over Valjean and threw themselves at his feet for a chance at his affections. Javert was not naive. Rather, he was the opposite. But he should have known. He should have been more perceptive. Javert’s hand clenched around one letter that Valjean had sent to him as he berated himself for his naivety.

 

Again, Valjean attempted to step forward. This time, he had the audacity to open his mouth and attempt to speak to Javert. Silently, Javert whipped out his sword. This was enough to make the man step back. Javert’s tears fell off his cheeks and he made no move to wipe them away. He glared stonily at Valjean, who looked genuinely sorry. Javert told himself that it was another trick. He had to erase any evidence that he was involved with this man. The fact that he was lied to- tricked- hurt too much to allow any evidence to remain. Nothing could remain of this. Javert would not let himself remember this.

 

Nearly ten years later, after Javert had been swallowed by the dark cold waters of the Seine because of Valjean’s kindness, his ghost watched as a dying Valjean haltingly told Cosette the story of his life. It was summarized and Cosette’s realization came as a sick satisfaction to Javert. She knew now how he had hurt those around him. Next to him stood the ghost of Fantine. Cosette’s look of horror was mirrored almost exactly on her mother’s face. This story was clearly news to Fantine. She hadn’t known what she had done, and in the afterlife, Javert was forced to realize that. As Valjean quietly told his story to his daughter and her husband,  Javert stood silently, saying nothing. A single tear traced its way down his cheek. Fantine moved forward to comfort the crying trio. Javert didn’t move.

 

Javert could see the exact moment Valjean’s last breath left him. His spirit, bright and ethereal, emerged from his body. He was alerted to the former inspector’s presence behind him as Fantine glanced up and past Valjean. He turned around with a shocked expression and rushed forward, tackling Javert in a tight hug. The hole that had been apart of Javert for so long was finally filled and the inspector felt an emotion he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Forgiveness washed over him and he returned the hug tightly, crying openly with Valjean. They stayed tangled in their embrace, holding onto each other as Javert whispered that he forgave Valjean over and over.

_If you thought you were mine,_

 

**_Don’t_ ** _._

 

In Montreuil-sur-Mer, the final piece of paper was burned. The flame flickered. Javert slowly sheathed his sword and turned on his heel. He walked out, leaving behind his heart and everything he had once held dear.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics were removed due to copyright issues, I guess? Whatever though, I'm going to be reposting my notes so y'all can see my thoughts on this.


End file.
